


Onyx Feathers

by SmolNarwhalWrites



Series: Circos City Alternate Universes [1]
Category: Original Work
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Wings, Angel Wings, F/F, F/M, Immortality, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Master/Pet, Master/Slave, Multi, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Rape/Non-con Elements, Slavery, Triggers, Whump, Wings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-09
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:28:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 15
Words: 12,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29317884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SmolNarwhalWrites/pseuds/SmolNarwhalWrites
Summary: "Controlling their need is the most important thing. Do they need food? Water? Warmth? Make them beg for it. Break them until they are nothing but perfectly obedient."It was a slave, chained to the floor. He was unlike anything Damien had ever seen, the most beautiful person he'd ever laid eyes on. He would have been tall at full height, with long limbs and a long, muscular torso. He was too skinny, as all the king's slaves were, with medium-tan skin and wild white hair. He was clean-shaven, his indigo eyes sharp as they stared Damien down. There was a muzzle over his face and chains wrapped around his arms. But the things that garnered Damien's attention weren't his handsome features. No, instead the magnificent black feathered wings adorning his back caught the most attention.** This fic is related to the Heroes of Circos City, but it isn't in cannon with that storyline. Instead, it takes some of the characters and incorporates them into an alternate reality, one stained with blood and tainted with the suffering of others. If you came here from that series, please understand that this is a stand-alone fic with the same characters. **
Relationships: Damien Fell/Tobias Thane, Damien/Original Character(s), Tobias/Original Character(s)
Series: Circos City Alternate Universes [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2153535
Kudos: 14





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!
> 
> I started writing this whump fic after I created the Heroes of Circos City. Some have seen this fic before they read the original, but that's okay. I started posting this fic in short parts on Tumblr just for fun. This fic is related to the Heroes of Circos City, but it isn't in cannon with that storyline. Instead, it takes some of the characters and incorporates them into an alternate reality, one stained with blood and tainted with the suffering of others. If you came here from that series, please understand that this is a stand-alone fic with the same characters.
> 
> Please also mind the tags! This fic contains elements that may be upsetting to some readers, including implied non-con, graphic depictions of violence, and underage whump. Please be safe.
> 
> Leave me a comment!
> 
> ~SmolNarwhal

"You're old enough now to learn how to manage your own slave," The king told Damien the day after his thirteenth birthday.

Damien was hardly more than a boy, tall and skinny, with dark hair and dark eyes. It hadn't been very long since he'd noticed hair growing in new places. He wasn't even shaving yet. Not really.

King Alexander led Damien down the spiral stairs to the lowest levels of the palace, a place Damien had never been allowed to venture before. Damien stuck close to his father, his skin crawling as they descended further into darkness. The lamp in Alexander's hand was the only source of light, hanging in the air around him.

"Training slaves is a difficult skill to master, but I am sure you will be good at it," Alexander told his son. "Just as I am and just as your grandfather was."

"Do I really have to learn this?" Damien questioned as they reached the bottom of the stairs.

The king shot him a sharp look, "Of course, son. All the palace slaves must be taught correctly. The training houses are far too soft on them."

Damien wrapped his arms around himself when he suddenly heard a keening noise from somewhere within the dark chamber ahead. There were other sounds too: rustling, sobbing, groaning. Pain and suffering. He didn't want any part of this.

"Don't worry, son," his father smiled in the lamp-light. "You'll do well at it, just as I did."

He pushed a lever on the wall and suddenly the whole room was alight. The cavernous room spread out for what felt like forever, lined with cells and metal cages, rows upon rows of them. Some of them were empty, but many of them contained a person, a slave. Damien took a step back, his eyes widening by the onslaught of blood and bone that lay before him. Each person was gaunt and barely moved, covered in splashes of brown and crimson. Their clothes were practically nonexistent, hanging off of their frames in threadbare rags. Some of them were chained up in weird positions, while others laid on the floor, so still that Damien wasn't sure they were alive at all.

Alexander smiled at him, "Welcome, son. Let's get started."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: This chapter contains violence, neglect, implied non-con, and minor underage whump. Please be safe!

By the time Damien was fourteen, he had learned his father's model for training a slave. It involved fear, pain, and need.

"Controlling their need is the most important thing," his father had taught him. "Do they need food? Water? Warmth? Make them beg for it. Break them until they are nothing but perfectly obedient."

The training disgusted Damien. He hated the look in their eyes as they were hurt over and over again. He hated to watch the light leave them as they lost who they were and became a broken husk of a person. But when Damien tried to refuse to do as he was told, his father's darkness came out.

The first time it happened, Damien swore he would never bring it up again.

"This is our responsibility as rulers," Alexander had said, handing his son the already-bloody whip. The slave was a young man, not much older than Damien himself was.

"Father, please don't make me do this!" Damien had begged. "I can't hurt him!"

"He's just a slave, Damien," the king's jaw clenched. "Teach him who is in charge."

"No!" Damien threw the whip down. "I can't do it!"

Alexander's eyes darkened. He turned to the guard at the side of the room, "Go get my daughter."

White hot fear blazed through Damien then. "Natalia? What do you need her for? Father, please don't involve her in this! She's only eight years old!"

But his father didn't listen. Damien got on his knees and begged Alexander to stop, tears pouring down his face. When they brought Natalia down, Damien started screaming.

"This is what happens when you disobey me, son," Alexander said coldly, pulling his eight-year-old daughter forward. She looked around at the blood with eyes the size of moons, tears dripping down her face and a whimper escaping her lips.

"Let her go back up to Mom!" Damien pleaded. "Please, Father! Please!"

"No, you need to get over your fears. When the body is harmed, it grows back stronger. Now--" Alexander gripped Natalia's left wrist hard. She whimpered and tried to pull away, but the king didn't even seem to notice. "Break a bone. Or I will."

"Please, don't make me do this, Father," Damien sobbed. "I'll do whatever you want. Please!"

"Break a bone, or I will." The king's hand curled around Natalia's neck, even as she began to writhe and scream.

"Please, Father…" Damien clutched his own body, his heart trying to wrench itself free of his chest.

"Three."

"Father, don't make me do this! Please!"

"Two."

Damien steeled himself, gripping Natalia's left pinky finger. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so sorry."

Snap!

Damien turned away, bile surging upward in his throat at the sound of his sister's screams. He retched on the floor, his body heaving as waves of disgust rolled over him.

His father spoke behind him, his sister's screams echoing throughout the room. Damien retched again.

The screams faded as Damien tried to get ahold of himself, taking deep breaths through his mouth. He flinched away when his father touched his back.

"Great job, son," the king said with a sickly-sweet smile. "Now, let's get back to work."

His mother never looked at him the same after that.

But now that Damien was fourteen, it was time for him to have his own slave to train.

"Here you are, son," the king grinned, motioning to the slaves lined up before them. "Choose whichever one you want."

There were five to choose from, three women and two men. They were naked, tied to posts. Each one had a terrible look of fear in their eyes. They were untouched, their skin unbroken and still plump enough to assume they hadn't been down here long.

Damien looked each one over, his heart pounding painfully in his chest. He wanted to choose the one that would be the least difficult to break. He didn't want to hurt them more than necessary.

"That one," Damien pointed to the girl on the end. She was shorter than the others, with long blonde hair and pale eyes. Damien didn't think She was much older than he was. Sixteen at most. She was already crying, tears dripping down her face and into the floor.

Alexander hummed his approval. "She will make a marvelous bed slave for you, son. I'm sure you will train her well."

Damien swallowed the lump in his throat, his heart hurting as the girl began to sob harder. He didn't want to hurt her. He wanted to let her go. But that would only hurt Natalia instead.

"Come on," his father chirped. "Let's take her into the training room. I want to watch what you do with her."

A spike of alarm shot through Damien, but he kept it hidden. So soon? "Yes, Father."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: This chapter contains implied non-con, violence, stress position, muzzling.

The girl, who Damien later found to be named Destiny, learned quickly. Damien trained her as fast as possible and she became his first slave. After his father stopped watching him train her, things changed between them. She was still terrified of him, but once he explained that he had never wanted to hurt her, she eventually began to relax a little. Damien hoped they could become friends, although he doubted she would ever see him that way after everything he'd done to her.

When Damien turned fifteen, Alexander showed him his prized possession.

"This way, son," the king prompted, leading the way into a stone room that Damien had never entered before. What he found there took his breath away.

It was a slave, chained to the floor. He was unlike anything Damien had ever seen, the most beautiful person he'd ever laid eyes on. He would have been tall at full height, with long limbs and a long, muscular torso. He was too skinny, as all the king's slaves were, with medium-tan skin and wild white hair. He was clean-shaven, his indigo eyes sharp as they stared Damien down. There was a muzzle over his face and chains wrapped around his arms. But the things that garnered Damien's attention weren't his handsome features. No, instead the magnificent black feathered wings adorning his back caught the most attention.

The man was arranged in a very specific fashion, his hands raised above his head and his ankles chained to the floor behind him so that he was crouching. The collar around his neck was also chained to the ground, making it impossible for him to shift the weight off of his ankles or wrists. Instead he was stuck somewhere in the middle. His wings were extended out on either side of him also, spread apart by a bar of metal attached to the bend of each wing. His tattered clothing was streaked with old blood, his body littered with countless wounds and even more scars. He was shaking with pain, eyes distrustful as the two men approached.

Damien stared at the man, extranced. He could barely breathe.

"This will be yours one day," Alexander revealed.

Damien glanced at his father with wide eyes, "Really?"

His father chuckled softly, nodding. "Yes, it has been passed down for many generations, starting with my great-great-great-great grandfather, Hiram Fell."

"How is that possible?" Damien breathed, taking a step closer.

"It doesn't age."

"But--"

"I know! It's amazing. I've tried to learn it's secret, what makes it keep ticking. But I haven't figured it out," Alexander stroked his chin. "It is the only slave I've never been able to break."

Damien felt his heart lurch in his chest. He'd never been broken?

"You can come in here anytime you like, but don't touch it without my permission. Do you understand?"

"Yes, Father."

"Good," Alexander smiled. "Come on, we still have a lot to do today."


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: This chapter contains the mention of drugs, violence, muzzling, and stress positions.

After that, Damien visited the winged man often. He was always chained up in a different way, with fresh wounds across his body. That stupid muzzle was always there, keeping Damien from having a conversation with him. That didn't stop Damien from talking to him, though.

Over the next several years, Damien visited the man at least once a week. He told him about everything from his family to his training to his role as the crown prince. He shared with the man his anger towards his father and his broken relationship with his mother. He wished desperately that the man could speak back to him, but that never happened.

Until his 18th birthday.

"I'm so proud of you, son," his father told him. "You're becoming a fine young man."

The words meant nothing to Damien. His hatred for his father had only grown exponentially in the last several years, though he did his best to hide it.

"I'm going to teach you about my most prized possession. One day, it will be yours, so you need to know how to care for it."

Damien's heart leapt at the thought of learning more about the winged man. He smiled and followed along behind his father as they descended the stairs that had become so familiar to him.

The king led him into a room adjacent to the winged man's cell. It was lined with shelves, each laden with glass bottles of pale red liquid. There was a work table with journals and paperwork scattered across it.

"What is this?" Damien asked, confused.

"This is everything I know about my bird. Including this," Alexander picked up one of the red jars, showing it to his son. "This is crivain. It suppresses it's powers and prevents it from escaping. It must have a dose every twenty-four hours."

Damien nodded, feeling his eyes widen.

"Now that you're a man, you have my permission to do as you please with my bird. Just make sure you always tie him back up. Do you understand me?"

"Yes, Father," Damien grinned, excitement buzzing in his veins.

"Good. He doesn't behave like my other slaves, so be careful. I trust you to treat him like you should," Alexander set the red bottle back down. "I need to get back to work. I'm sure you can handle things here."

Damien nodded again, following his father out of the storage room and watching him climb the stairs. Once Alexander was out of sight, Damien whirled around and bounded toward the winged man's cell. He was finally going to get to talk to him! After all these years!

Damien grabbed the keys to the man's chains off their hook and entered the cell. He locked the door behind him, his breath catching in his throat as he laid eyes on the slave.

The man was crouched on the opposite side of the room, his wrists chained to the floor behind him and his wings pressed into leather straps so that they were forced to be folded at his sides. His indigo eyes were unfocused, likely from pain, and there was a huge fresh gash in his side. He barely seemed to register Damien's appearance until the young prince had crouched directly in front of him.

The winged man started and blinked rapidly, craning his head so that he was meeting Damien's gaze.

"Hello," Damien greeted softly, reaching out a hand. He unchained his wrists from where they were behind his body.

The man stood up to his full height, towering above Damien and rubbing his wrists.

"I'll take off your muzzle too, if you'll let me."

The man had distrust in his eyes. He hesitated, his body tensing, but finally relented. He turned around and knelt, allowing access to the lock behind his head.

Damien felt a shiver crawl up his spine when he saw the scars and fresh wounds littering the man's back. His wings were tucked close to his body, still held in their leather casing. Damien unlocked the muzzle and pulled the straps loose, then turned to the man's wings.

The man removed the muzzle from his face, setting it down on the stained tile floor. Damien pulled the leather casings off of his wings and set them on the floor as well, admiring the quivering wall of feathers that now stood on either side of him.

The man stretched his wings out to their full span, rotating the joints. He groaned softly, his voice deep and vibrant. Standing and turning to Damien, his indigo gaze focused intensely on the shorter man.

"Can you tell me your name?" Damien questioned gently.

The man's voice was rough from misuse and he had to try more than once to get it to work. When it finally did, it was barely more than a whisper, "Tobias."

Damien smiled, "It's a pleasure to officially meet you, Tobias."

The man didn't move, just studied Damien with those same amethyst eyes. His onyx wings stretched out and back in, feathers silent as he tucked them close to his body once more.

"Um," Damien suddenly felt awkward, rubbing the back of his neck. He motioned toward the floor, "Shall we sit?"

Tobias looked down at the ground, then obediently sat down where he was, crossing his legs in front of him. Damien sat next to him, excited and scared at the same time.

"My father hasn't told me a lot about you," Damien told him. "But I suppose you already know a lot about me."

Tobias didn't respond, his gaze unwavering.

"Is it true that you don't age?"

Tobias nodded shortly.

Damien bit his lip, twirling his thumbs around one another. "How old are you?"

"I don't remember. Time passes differently behind these walls."

The answer shouldn't have surprised him. There were no windows, no natural light. It was only the sconces that lit the darkness. And even they were pitifully dim compared to the bright sunlight Damien was accustomed to.

"I see," Damien muttered.

Tobias kept perfectly still, his eyes tracing Damien's features. The young prince watched those eyes as they scanned him from head to toe, slowly consuming every detail he could glean from appearance alone. Damien tried to still the nervous twiddling of his fingers, but he found it nearly impossible. Instead, his breath left his lungs when that brilliant gaze once again found his own.

"Won't your father be angry with you once he discovers you've released me?" Tobias asked.

Damien shook his head, trying desperately to wipe the triumphant grin from his face. "I have permission."

Tobias nodded once, not pressing for anymore information. Damien found himself at a loss for words, so instead he studied the man's wavy white hair and the sharp cut of his jaw. He was timeless, in a way. His features were smooth and handsome, despite his blemished skin.

He sat with Tobias for a long time after that, their silence unbroken until it was time for Damien to leave.

Damien had to chain Tobias back up, but he decided only to leave his wrists bound.

"I have to tie you back up now," Damien told him regretfully. "I'm sorry."

Tobias only nodded and offered his wrists. Damien slipped the chains around them, leaving enough room so that they wouldn't pinch. He used the longer chains so that Tobias could still stand and walk around a little.

"Goodbye, Tobias," he said. "I'll come back and see you soon."

Tobias didn't respond. Instead, his eyes were fixed on his feet. When Damien left, he found himself wishing he could stay with Tobias forever.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: This chapter contains violence, caning, and wing whump.
> 
> On the bright side, Tobias finally also gets a little comfort.

Tobias' least favorite days were those when King Alexander was angry. It didn't matter what Tobias did, even if he were completely obedient, the king would beat him within an inch of his life. Well, if any mortal were treated as Tobias was, they would have died a long time ago.

Today was one of the worst days Tobias had had since Alexander had come to own him. His wrists were attached to long chains that were attached to opposite walls, legs spread at shoulder width and tied in place. It was one of the few times when he was left without a muzzle, when Alexander preferred to hear his screams.

The king had started by caning his backside. He hadn't spared his sensitive wings, either. Alexander rarely damaged his wings, choosing instead to gaze upon them. He must have been really furious to attack the feathered appendages.

The thin wooden cane slammed into him over and over again, his flesh hanging in strips off his bare back. He could hear the steady drip, drip, drip as blood slid off his wings and onto the floor. Each pronounced sound only seemed louder to Tobias' ear, interspaced with his cries of pain. Alexander didn't stop, even when there was a sickening crunch and Tobias shrieked louder than he had in many years. The pain nearly blinded him, white hot agony searing through his body. He sagged against the chains. Despite the pain, he couldn't make any more sounds, his vision fading fast.

When he regained consciousness, he was still chained up and Alexander was gone. The sconce on the wall was burning low, but Tobias could still see the pool of dark blood below him. His entire body throbbed, his arms numb and pain pounding through him. He turned his head, trying to catch sight of his wings. His dark feathers were slick with blood, right wing hanging at a low angle. He couldn't be sure if it was broken, but he suspected that one of his ribs was. Every breath sent pangs of fire through his side.

He tried to stretch his right wing out. It didn't respond, instead his muscles spasmed in pain.

The door opened then, letting in light from the outside. The princeling peered in at him with wide eyes and mouth agape, then vanished once again behind the door.

A wave of dizziness swept over Tobias and he struggled to stay conscious. But the pool of blood beneath him continued to grow and so did the darkness.

Tobias woke again to hands on him. He was on the cold tile ground now, laying on his stomach. His head, alarmingly, was in someone's lap, turned to the side so he could see the far wall. Feeling had returned to his hands, but now he found he couldn't feel his right wing. Alarm shot through him and he tried to bolt up, only to be pressed down again.

"Hold him steady!" A cold voice snapped.

"Tobias, please stay still," the princeling murmured near his ear. He put a hand on Tobias' shoulder, his touch unexpectedly gentle.

Tobias tried not to panic, his body tense and heart racing.

"It's just the medic," Prince Damien explained. "He's fixing your wing. You have a broken bone."

Tobias squeezed his eyes shut, trying to tell himself it was going to be okay. But in reality, he knew the truth. King Alexander didn't care about broken bones. Even if Tobias was hurt, it wouldn't save him from the pain he would continue to endure. He feared that his wing would never heal properly. The hopeful part of him grieved the fact that he would never fly again. The darker part of him argued that he probably never would have flown again anyway, given that he would never be free.

"It's going to be okay," the princeling told him. Tobias felt fingers tenderly carding through his hair. The feeling was alien to Tobias and his body didn't seem to know how to react. His heart sped up and he tensed, then he melted and every single one of his muscles relaxed.

Curse his body for responding that way.

The medic worked for what felt like a long time. He stitched up Tobias' wounds and bound his wing in a splint so that the bone would heal.

"That should do it," he finally said.

The prince still had his fingers in Tobias' dirty locks. "Can you give him anything for the pain?"

The question surprised Tobias. Why would he do that?

"I'm under strict orders not to give out pain medications to the slaves. I only numbed his wing because I had to set the bone."

"Oh," Prince Damien responded. "Well, thank you for your help then."

"Of course, Your Highness. Good evening."

Once the door had closed behind him, Tobias tried to sit up, only to be pressed down once again. "Stay put."

Tobias did as he was told, although he did shift slightly onto his left side, tucking his good wing safely behind him. His body throbbed in pain from the movement.

The princeling continued to play with Tobias' hair silently.

Clearing his throat, Tobias found himself asking before he could stop himself. "Why did you help me?"

"Your wing will probably hurt a lot when the numbness wears off."

"Your Highness--"

"I'll do my best to keep my father busy until it heals, but you'll have to be on your best behavior."

"Your Highness--"

"I don't know how long it will take to heal. Probably a while. It was a pretty bad break."

Tobias turned his head so that he was looking up in the prince's eyes. Those big brown eyes were looking down at him with concern. His brows were furrowed, a crease forming in between them. Tobias spoke softly, "Prince Damien, please listen."

The prince stopped talking, biting his lip instead.

"Thank you for helping me," Tobias held the prince's gaze. "But it wasn't worth you getting in trouble over. The king will only come back later."

"I won't let him," Prince Damien muttered stubbornly.

Tobias shook his head, "He is the king. He can do as he pleases with his possessions." The word left a sour taste in his mouth, but Tobias had had many, many years to get used to it. "And I'm not very good at being on my best behavior."

"Well, you'll have to try," the prince insisted.

They fell into silence again, gazing at one another. The princeling began to play with his hair again. Tobias tried not to reveal how much pleasure it brought him, but he quickly found himself nodding off. He struggled to keep his eyes open, eyelids like lead suddenly.

Tobias didn't even dream.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: This chapter contains mention of violence and an underage whumper.

Keeping Alexander from hurting Tobias while his wing healed turned out to be a pretty significant challenge. Damien kept him busy with an influx of new slaves into the palace. It took some months to train them, and Damien found that he himself was extremely busy during this time as well. He didn't go see Tobias for a full two months.

The medic, whose name was Cason, removed the splint and inspected the wing. Tobias was sitting still, his gaze fixed on the ground. His wrists were fixed to the long chains, but otherwise he was unbound.

"Well," Cason didn't look happy. But now that Damien considered it, he wasn't sure the medic ever looked happy. "It will do. You'll want to be careful with it, but as long as you don't put too much stress on it, it should heal the rest of the way on its own."

"Thank you," Damien breathed. "You're dismissed."

Cason nodded tersely, gathering his things and leaving without a word.

Tobias' indigo gaze travelled up to meet Damien's own. His voice was rough and low, "Thank you."

"Of course," Damien responded. "You look better."

The two months had given Tobias much-needed time to heal. Fresh, pink skin had formed where wounds had been before.

"I have a few things I need to do, but I'll stop back by later," the prince told him.

The winged slave nodded and thanked him again, his gaze dropping to the floor once more. Damien left him alone, attending to his own duties.

That evening Damien went and ate dinner with his family, as he always did. Alexander sat at the head of the table, with Queen Eliana to his left. Damien himself sat at the king's right hand, as the crown prince. Princess Natalia sat next to the queen, while Damien's youngest sibling, Prince Julian, sat next to Damien.

They were served by a slew of slaves; roasted duck and stewed vegetables were on the menu that night.

Family dinners were usually quiet. The king often looked over paperwork while they ate, and the children were meant to stay quiet. But Julian broke the silence with a startling statement.

"I want to learn to train slaves, just like Damien does."

Two things happened just then. Queen Eliana dropped her spoon into her dish, producing a rather loud clang. And Damien choked on the roast duck.

Julian patted his older brother's back, "Are you okay?"

Damien nodded, trying to stop coughing. Once he was successful, he turned his attention to his parents. Eliana was glaring down into her bowl, eyebrows drawn and lips tight. Alexander, on the other hand, was smiling.

"You'll learn to train slaves when you're thirteen, just as your brother did," the king told his youngest son.

Julian's gaze hardened, "But Father, can't I learn now?"

Alexander's small smile stretched into a triumphant grin. Damien suppressed a shutter. 

The king responded, "I suppose so, if that's what you really want."

"But Father," Damien protested, trying to keep his voice level despite his growing alarm. "Julian's only ten!"

"He's nearly eleven," the king replied, glaring at Damien. "If he wants to learn, I will teach him."

Damien dropped his gaze to his plate, trying to think of a way to save his brother from this fate. Julian didn't understand. He would have to learn to hurt people. Sometimes even people he loved. His sister's slightly crooked left pinky finger and his mother's sad eyes reminded him of that every day.

In the end, Damien was only a coward. He struggled to muster the courage to stand up to his father, to no avail. Instead, dinner went on in silence.

Once he had finished eating, the king stood from the table. "Come on, boys. Let's go visit the slaves."


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Read the tags please.

Julian was startlingly good at training the slaves. The first month of his training flew by and Damien found himself disgusted by the person he began to see in his brother.

He liked to watch the slaves suffer.

Alexander couldn't be more proud. Julian didn't balk at the idea of inflicting pain like Damien had (and secretly still did). He was eager and willing.

"It's terrifying," Damien confided in Tobias one day. "I'm watching this boy who I thought I knew morph into a dark and twisted person."

Tobias didn't speak, but he did give the prince a look that gave Damien the impression that Tobias knew exactly what that was like.

The pair were seated on the floor of Tobias' cell, leaning against the wall. Damien had untied Tobias from the rather compromising position he had been in when the prince had entered. The winged man had hardly spoken at all, but that wasn't unusual for him.

"What do you think?" Damien questioned.

Tobias shrugged, "It's hardly my place to give an opinion, Your Highness."

"I'm asking for one," Damien pointed out mildly.

Tobias sighed, his indigo eyes dragging the length of the room. "It sounds to me like you're one of the few members of your family who don't enjoy inflicting pain."

Damien pulled his legs to his chest, resting his chin on his knees. Was Damien himself as messed up as his father and brother?

"Hey," Tobias murmured gently.

The prince turned, finding his gaze instantly ensnared in the trap of those amethyst eyes.

"Don't be hard on yourself. You'll get through this."

Damien wondered if it was the truth. Once his father stepped aside and Damien became king, would things be better? Could he change the pattern that had dictated the lives of his family members for generations?

"Was everyone always cruel to you, like my father is?"

Tobias thought for a moment, rubbing his chin. "No. There have been a few, like you, who were not inherently cruel people."

"How come you are still here then? No one tried to set you free?"

"It isn't that simple," Tobias frowned. "I belong to the crown, not to any one person. Any member of the royal family has rights to me, so I can't be set free by a single person. And even if I were somehow set free or escaped, I would be recaptured quickly by the royal guard."

Damien raised his eyebrows. Really? They would go to such lengths to keep him here?

Tobias fingered the collar at his throat, "I'm marked as a slave. That makes me property, not a person."

The prince turned away, disgusted. It wasn't right. None of this was right.

The door opened then, allowing fresh lamplight to slide into the room. Damien got to his feet, his stomach dropping as his father and brother entered the room.

"What are you doing?" The king's voice growled darkly.

Tobias scrambled to his feet, pressing his body against the wall behind him.

Damien raised his chin, "Nothing, Father."

"Good. Since you're not busy, I want you to show your brother how it's done," Alexander pushed Julian forward.

Damien's blood ran cold. "Alright, shall we go get one of the slaves?"

"Why? You have a perfectly disobedient little bird right here."

Dread poured through Damien. When he looked back at Tobias, the winged slave wouldn't meet his gaze. Instead, his indigo eyes were fixed on the floor, blank.

"Go on, Damien," Alexander grinned. "Show me what you got."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dun dun dunn! Is Damien going to be forced to hurt Tobias?


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warning: Asphyxiation, knives, violence, young whumper, etc. Please read the tags!

Tobias hadn't experienced a kind touch in a long time. Pain was a fact of everyday life, so the prince hurting him shouldn't have been any different than the king hurting him.

And yet, it was like something within him snapped. He became a version of himself he hadn't been in a while. A person that the man he was pre-slavery would have been ashamed of.

"No! Please!" Tobias begged, backing away from the young prince.

Prince Damien stalked up to Tobias, his face distorting into a blank expression that the slave had never seen on the princeling's face before. He slid a hand into Tobias' hair, soft and gentle in a way that made the slave weak in the knees, then gripped hard, yanking his head back. "Go ahead and beg. It won't change the outcome of the situation."

"Please, I'll be good. I'll do anything--" Tobias whimpered.

"Anything? Hmm…" the prince continued to yank his hair painfully, pushing him to his knees. The stained tile floor was cold and hard, sending a shock up Tobias' legs.

From the edge of the room, King Alexander cackled. Prince Julian stepped forward, "Can I try, brother?"

The way he said it sounded so innocent. It was like he was asking his older brother if he could play a game with him.

The king answered for Prince Damien, "Of course, son. What did you have in mind?"

Half an hour later, Tobias found himself in a rather uncomfortable position. His hands were chained to the wall above him. So were his wings, splayed out as though he were a wall hanging. But that wasn't the worst part. His collar was attached to a chain that ended just below his wrists. It was so high that it forced Tobias to balance on his tip-toes to avoid suffocating.

The two princes had taken turns trying to get him to scream. The game was simple: run the knife across Tobias' skin deeper and deeper. They wanted him to stay silent and still. If he cried out or moved even a little, they pressed the blade into the sensitive skin of his inner wing.

Tobias was struggling to stay conscious. He hadn't lost that much blood in a long time. Immortal or otherwise, he didn’t enjoy near death experiences. And passing out or becoming too weak to continue would only hang him by the collar.

"Alright," Prince Julian sounded bored. "That's enough for today. How about we leave him there for now? We can go get a snack and check on him in a few hours."

"Okay," The older prince agreed.

The three royals left him there, putting out the sconces and shrouding him in complete darkness. He struggled to stay conscious, his own rasping breaths echoing in his ears. He could feel the blood dripping down his body, warm and wet. His head pounded painfully, dizziness washing over him like waves on the ocean shore. His feet ached from holding him up, sharp pangs tearing from his toes to his ankles then up his calves. His whole body screamed from the awkward position.

He tried desperately to stay up on his toes, but his muscles eventually gave out, leaving him dangling by his throat. Toes scrabbling at the floor to get ahold, he choked. Spots danced on his vision, his head pounding in pain from a mix of blood loss and now loss of oxygen. At some point, he lost consciousness, only to wake up again choking.

He wasn't sure how many times it happened. His body didn't let him die, not fully, but he imagined that dying would feel similar. Every time he woke up, he choked again until he passed out, every cell in his body crying out in agony.

Until finally he stopped waking up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for staying with me this far! Leave me a comment and let me know what you think.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trigger warnings: Please read the tags! Implied non-con, violence, non-con drug use.

Damien felt terrible for what he'd done to Tobias. The guilt began to writhe in his gut, growing stronger as the hours passed. When he and Julian finally went back to let the winged slave down from the wall, it was late at night.

The door slid open, revealing Tobias' limp body. Damien's heart nearly leapt out of his chest when he saw the discoloration in his skin. He couldn't have died… right?

He forced himself not to run as he crossed the room, reaching up and unchaining his collar from the wall. His body sagged downward, his weight shifting to his wrists. Damien pressed his fingers against his neck, searching for a pulse. It was there, though it was faint.

Damien's heart stilled, though bile rose in his throat when he saw the damage he'd done.

"Just leave it there," Julian muttered coldly. "We'll check on it again in the morning."

Anger flared up inside Damien, although he quickly buried it behind a wall of indifference. "Good idea."

They left Tobias behind, though Damien could hardly bear it.

*

When Tobias finally regained consciousness, he was still chained to that wall. His joints ached. His skin stung. But his neck felt the worst. It was the type of deep-tissue soreness that made it difficult to breathe and almost impossible to swallow.

He wasn't sure how much time had passed, but the chamber was still pitch black. The only thing he could hear was his own ragged breathing.

Tobias knew it must have only been hours, but the time dragged on until it felt like weeks. It would have been enough to drive a sane person mad, but he was sure he had gone mad ages ago.

When the door finally did open and let in some light, it nearly blinded him. He squeezed his eyes shut, whining softly in the back of his throat.

"Oh, there you are, Bird!" A familiar voice cried. 

Tobias' stomach dropped into his feet. He forced his eyes open a crack, his hunch proven correct when he laid eyes on her profile. She sauntered across the room, wrenching his face up with her sharp talons so that she could look at him. The movement in his neck sent agony through his shoulders. His whimper came out as more of a rusty scraping noise, ruined voice useless.

Queen Alyssa was King Alexander's younger sister. She'd been married off to the king of a neighboring country before she was twenty, although the years before that had been absolute horror for Tobias. And every time she had visited since, King Alexander had given her free reign over the winged slave. She had two guards with her and a black case in her free hand.

"Did you miss me?" She whispered close to his ear. Her voice dripped with honey, despite the underlying barbs. Tobias squeezed his eyes shut as she stuck her tongue out and drew it up the side of his face.

When she pulled away, it was only to open the black case. Tobias struggled against his bindings in vain when he saw the syringe and needle inside.

"Oh, don't worry dear," Queen Alyssa drawled, filling the syringe from a vial. "It will only sting for a moment. Then it will make you feel good."

Tobias keened softly as the needle was pressed into his arm. There was fire, then a sharp ache spread through him. It left him weak and shaking, panting for breath.

"Take him," Queen Alyssa ordered the guards. They dragged him from the wall, the weakness in his body too much to allow him to fight.

He closed his eyes as he was dragged from the room, a wave of sickness rolling over his body as he began to feel the effects of the drug.

It was going to be a long night.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> READ THE TAGS PLEASE.
> 
> Trigger warning: implied non-con, mention of sex with a close family member.

When Damien woke up the next morning, he immediately went to check on Tobias, his heart pounding in his chest. But when the door to his cell slid open, Tobias wasn't there.

Fear pulsed through him as he ran back up into the main part of the palace. He headed straight for his father's office, rapping his knuckles on the door. His heart pounded in his ears while he awaited a response, the sudden stop and silence nearly deafening.

"Come in!"

Damien turned the cold brass handle and found himself under the scrutiny of his father's gaze. The king's study was large for an office. It had floor-to-ceiling windows in the far wall and bookshelves lining the other walls. A heavy oak desk stood at the center of the room, covered in paperwork and heavy tomes. The king was seated behind the desk.

"What is it, son?"

Forcing his voice to be level, he pressed the mask of indifference over his features before he spoke. "I went to check on the bird this morning. It was gone."

"Oh no, go ask your Aunt Alyssa. I think she had some business with the bird last night."

Alarm shot through the prince. "Aunt Alyssa is here?"

"Yes, she arrived late yesterday evening," the king looked back down at the paperwork in front of him. "Go on, I'm quite busy."

"Thank you, Father."

Damien's dread lessened slightly, although he was confused why his aunt wanted Tobias. What business could she possibly have with him?

The guest quarters were a floor down from the royal suites. Aunt Alyssa always stayed in the biggest, most lavish suite. Damien headed straight there and knocked on the door.

His aunt answered a moment later. She was tying a red satin robe around her body. Her blonde hair was mussed and her cheeks were flushed pink. When she saw him, she grinned, "Damien! My, how you've grown! You look like a proper man."

"Good morning, Aunt Alyssa," he greeted. "My father said you had business with the bird?"

Alyssa's grin became almost feral, "Oh yes, we've been having a grand time." She opened the door wider and motioned for Damien to enter.

The suite was rather large, with a sitting room in front and the bedroom and bathroom behind it. Nothing looked out of place in the sitting room, although Damien had a very bad feeling.

"I doubt your father ever told you about my relationship with my husband," Alyssa closed the door behind Damien.

The prince shook his head.

"Well," the queen sighed, brushing her dark blonde hair off her shoulder. "My husband is dreadfully boring in bed. He rarely allows me any of my own fun. Instead it's all about duty and his own pleasure. So getting to play with your bird is always a real treat for me."

White hot horror washed over Damien as he realized what she was saying. He kept it off of his face as best he could, but his stomach dropped out from under him and vanished entirely.

"You live here, so I'm sure you get the bird whenever you want."

Damien shook his head, suddenly feeling sick. He wouldn't ever do that to Tobias. He couldn't. 

"Oh, don't tell me you don't like men?" Alyssa raised an eyebrow, "I didn't think you were entirely straight."

"I-I'm not--" Damien stammered.

"Well, great! What are you waiting for? Now is the perfect time." She was already dragging him into the bedroom before Damien could react. The prince opened his mouth to object, but then he saw it.

The room was almost as large as Damien's own room was. The pearly tile floors shone in the watery sunlight that filtered through the windows. The bed was a king-size four-poster bed with tall wooden posts.

Tobias was spread out on the bed, his bruised throat exposed. His dark onyx wings were tucked close to his body, wrists and ankles chained to the bedposts. A thin sheet covered the lower half of his body. A sheen of sweat shone on his skin and his breathing was erratic. Beneath the sheet, Damien could clearly see that a certain body part was standing at attention.

Damien backed up a step, "I-I--"

"Come on, Damien. Don't be shy," Aunt Alyssa chuckled darkly. "I know you're not a virgin. You have your own bed slave, don't you?"

"I have duties to attend to. Sorry, Aunt Alyssa," he darted out of the room, his skin crawling.

As he was leaving, he heard her mutter, "Damn. That would have been so hot."

***

Aunt Alyssa stayed a full week before finally returning to her own country. She spent most of it holed up in her room with Tobias. Damien hated every moment of it. It made him sick to think of what she was doing to him. Even worse, she took every opportunity to invite Damien to join in.

He would sooner have killed himself than willingly sleep with someone while his aunt was watching. The fact that she intended for him to sleep with Tobias against his will only made the situation that much more horrifying.

"It isn't like similar things haven't happened," Destiny, his one and only bed slave, pointed out one evening.

She was right, after all. He'd been forced to do similar things to Destiny when he was "training" her. And his father had watched.

Committing that atrocious act hadn't been any easier then. He'd spent so much time agonizing over it since. It still made him sick to his stomach when he thought about it. Even worse, Damien knew that Destiny still had nightmares about it. She and him may have repaired their relationship, but that didn't erase what he'd done to her.

"I know," he murmured softly, fresh waves of shame and horror washing over him.

Destiny sighed, reaching out and brushing the hair away from his face, "Hey. It's going to be okay. You and I figured it out, so I know that you and Tobias can figure it out, too."

Damien shook his head, standing from where he was perched at the edge of the bed. "The situation is different with Tobias. I've been able to shelter you from the worst of it, but Tobias isn't mine to shelter."

"He will be."

Damien considered the possibility. When he was crowned king, Tobias would become his. He'd still belong to the crown, but Damien would make the important decisions. Still, he couldn't think of a way to get out of this. He couldn't just set Tobias free like he'd be able to with Destiny. He'd have to come up with something better.

"You'll figure it out," Destiny sounded so sure. "You're a good man."

Damien snorted.

"You are," she insisted. "A good man trapped in bad circumstances. You'll get through this, I know it."

He hoped so.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, this chapter was really difficult for me to write. It's creepy and gross that Alyssa was acting that way towards her nephew, but it also shows what kind of family Damien grew up in in this universe. Sorry if that freaked any of y'all out. Don't worry, I don't intend to include any explicit content between Damien and any of his family members.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS!
> 
> Trigger Warning: Non-con. Abuse. Kick to the genitals. Asphyxiation. Stress position.

_Tobias was tied to the bed, wrists and ankles secured to each of the four bed posts. But instead of being on his back with Queen Alyssa on top of him, he found himself on his stomach._

_Hands were gripping his wings, fingers digging into the sensitive flesh. One of the hands disappeared and Tobias felt something cold slice across his back. It was sharp, cutting into his skin and leaving pain in its wake. He tried to cry out, but he couldn't hear his own screams._

_"Shhh…" Prince Damien's voice said above him. The knife dug deeper into his lower back. "No need to be upset. I'll make it feel good."_

_The knife vanished and a hand groped his bare backside. He tried to get out of his bindings, shrieking silently as he struggled in vain. Damien only cackled at his escape attempts, pressing him down into the mattress with terrifying strength._

_Agony flared up his backside when Damien began without warning, Tobias' body stretching around him. The pain lessened only slightly as it went on, the drugs having worn off ages ago. It seemed to go on forever, waves of horror washing over Tobias._

Tobias awoke when a bucket of freezing water was dumped on him. He leapt up, still riding on the terror of his nightmare. He was back in his own cell, although he still hadn't been given any clothes. He attempted to cover himself, despite the futility of the action. 

King Alexander glared at him with cold eyes, setting the bucket aside. "Get back down. On your knees."

Tobias did as asked, suddenly feeling terribly dizzy. How long had it been since he'd eaten? He couldn't remember.

Alexander produced a set of metal manacles, passing behind Tobias. He pulled his arms behind him, rotating his shoulders until they were at the very back of their sockets. The metal bit into his skin as the king attached the chains to his upper arms, where the shoulder muscles met. It forced his arms back into an unnatural position that ached. Then, he pushed Tobias' wings down until the bends were as far down as they could go. A bar of metal that Tobias hadn't realized was there kept them in place. His muscles were strained in this position, a dull ache spreading slowly through him.

Tobias shivered, his hair and feathers still wet. When the king came back around in front of him, he scrutinized every inch of bare skin. The slave kept his gaze low, knowing that the king would not appreciate him meeting his gaze.

Tobias stiffened when Alexander approached, pushing his foot between his knees. "So vulnerable."

The king's fingers gripped his hair, wrenching his head back and exposing his neck. Alexander's face was right in front of him, his mouth curved upward into a sadistic smirk.

"You're mine, Bird," Alexander whispered. His breath fanned Tobias' face. "Don't you ever forget it. You'll never leave here, you'll always belong to me or one of my descendants."

Alexander raised his foot, delivering a swift kick to Tobias' genitals and immediately releasing him to back away. Tobias cried out, doubling over in pain. The movement only put more strain on his arms and wings, the pain radiating through him almost too much to bear. There were spots on the edges of his vision, dancing merrily in response to his suffering.

Alexander appeared once more behind Tobias, wrapping his hands around his throat and applying just a bit of pressure. "Who do you belong to?"

"Y-You, Your Highness."

Alexander ran a hand down Tobias' trembling wing, the other still curled around his neck. "You exist for my pleasure. And your pain brings me pleasure."

A shudder passed through Tobias at that. He knew that. He'd known that for a long time. He served the royal family through his suffering.

When Tobias didn't respond, the king's hand tightened around his throat again, restricting his airway. "Right?"

"Yes!" Tobias gasped with what little breath he possessed. "That is all I exist for."

"Good," Alexander didn't lessen the pressure. "Then beg for me to hurt you."

Tobias choked. He didn't have enough breath to speak. Alexander's grip tightened and Tobias' vision swam.

The king released him, circling in front of the slave again as he gasped for air.

"Please--!" He rasped, a tear escaping his eye and streaming down his cheek. He coughed, trying to get his breath back. "Please, hurt me."

"That's hardly convincing," the king pouted.

"Please, Your Highness," Tobias begged, hating himself for bending so easily to the king's whims. "Please, hurt me! I deserve it. I only exist for your pleasure. I am merely a plaything to be used as you see fit!"

The king grinned, "Well, since you begged so sweetly, I'll just have to fulfill your request."


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS.

Damien found Tobias in a dreadful state. He was slumped over, his arms bound to the wall behind him. His wings had been forced apart, the muzzle pressed across his face once more. He was completely nude. Blood dripped down his skin, staining his pale hair. He wasn't conscious, although that position couldn't have been comfortable.

Damien was nervous to approach, unsure of how the slave would react to seeing him. He crossed the room slowly and unbound Tobias, laying him carefully on the tile floor. Damien removed his jacket and placed it over his hips, concealing his nudity.

There was so much blood.

Jagged wounds carved through his skin on his abdomen and back. His wrists and arms had rubbed raw where the chains had held him, blood caked on his torn skin. He had a split lip and a patchwork of bruises on his forearms and thighs. The muzzle had left a red stripe across his face where it had broken the skin.

Damien supported Tobias' head in his lap, appalled by the damage that had been done to him. If it hadn't been for the faint rise and fall of his chest, the prince would have thought him dead. No mere mortal would have been able to survive that much damage.

It was a while before Tobias awoke, his indigo eyes flicking open. The fear in them shook Damien to his core.

Tobias didn't move, but his entire body stiffened. He didn't make a sound, staying completely still.

"Hey," Damien murmured. "Relax, it's only me."

Tobias took a deep breath and slowly relaxed. Damien ran his fingers gently through his hair, avoiding the spots where blood had dried and caked. He would bring some warm water and rags down in a bit, he decided.

They sat still and silent for a long time, the winged slave melting beneath his touch. After a while, Damien sighed, "I'm sorry for hurting you, Tobias."

Tobias didn't respond.

"I didn't want to, but I had to."

Damien wished he could explain himself, justify his actions. He wanted to tell Tobias that it was because he was protecting him. If he hadn't hurt Tobias, then his father would have. And if Damien showed lack of resolve, then his father might make arrangements for Julian to inherit Tobias instead. He wanted to believe that those were his reasons for doing it.

But the truth was so much uglier.

He was scared. Scared for his younger sister, scared for Tobias, but mostly, scared for himself. He was a coward and he knew it.

He was ashamed of his fear. He shouldn't have been afraid for himself. Tobias had had it a lot worse for a lot longer. So why had he still hurt him?

"It's okay," Tobias told him softly. His voice was barely audible, a rough rasp in the back of his throat. "I understand."

Equal parts shame and relief washed over Damien at those words. He couldn't imagine why Tobias would forgive him after everything that happened, but he was grateful.

"Here, sit up," he requested gently. The slave complied, pushing his body up. Pain flashed across his face, but then it was gone. Damien got to his feet, "I'll be right back."

The prince left and returned with a bowl of warm water, some rags, some bandages, and a pair of trousers. Tobias was right where he's left him, leaning against the wall with only the prince's jacket covering his body.

Something about the way he was looking at the prince hit Damien right in the chest. If it hadn't been for the blood and grime, Tobias would have been attractive. The unsightly scars and protruding ribs made Damien mourn the slave's rough life, but underneath it all was a person who the prince had begun to care about more than he'd realized. And the depth of that affection ran deeper than Damien had expected.

He shoved the feelings away almost violently. Even if Tobias ever did feel the same way, it couldn't happen. Damien would find a way to free Tobias and he would leave.

Damien handed the trousers to the slave, turning his back to give him privacy while he changed. Once he'd dressed, they sat down on the cold tile floor and the prince washed away the blood as gently as he could, bandaging the wounds as he went.

"Thank you, Your Highness," Tobias murmured as the prince finished up. "Where did you learn to dress wounds?"

"I had a lot of practice when I was training Destiny."

"Your bed slave?"

Damien met Tobias' indigo gaze as he nodded, attempting to gauge his reaction.

"You have only one?"

Damien snorted, "Yes, and she's hardly a bed slave at all. She's more of a friend."

Tobias frowned, "Then why keep her?"

"Because my father wouldn't let me set her free."

Tobias considered this for a long moment, his expression difficult to read.

Damien scooted back against the wall, stretching out his legs and patting his thighs, "Come here."

Tobias' cheeks flushed slightly, but he put his head in Damien's lap again. The prince played with his white locks. They were surprisingly soft, especially now that they were free of blood. When the prince pressed his palm gently against Tobias' cheek, he leaned into the touch, his eyes fluttering shut.

Damien tried not to think too hard about it, but the action sent his heart hammering in his chest.

"Destiny isn't unattractive," Damien explained. "But after what I did while I was training her… I never wanted to do that to anyone again. She and I had a bumpy start, but we are friends now. I wouldn't ruin that by taking her to bed."

They sat in silence for a long time after that. Tobias fell asleep in Damien's lap. The prince was careful not to wake him when he left the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww... Finally some comfort for Tobias.


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE MIND THE TAGS.

The following months passed quickly for Damien. His father became ill quite suddenly, and it was becoming apparent that Damien would take the throne much sooner than he'd expected. By his nineteenth birthday, Damien had almost completely taken over every necessary task of king.

"We need to find you a wife," King Alexander decided one day.

Damien was sitting at his father's bedside, something he only spent time doing when necessary.

"You'll need an heir."

"I'm not worried about that right now, Father," Damien told him truthfully. There was plenty of time to wed and produce an heir.

Alexander shook his head, "Damien, listen. You need an heir. If something happens to you…"

"Nothing is going to happen to me. I'm young. I have plenty of years ahead."

"What about the princess of Drawnia? She's still unwed, isn't she?"

Damien shrugged. "I think she married the prince of Crana."

"The prince of Crana has a younger sister though, doesn't he?"

"Yes, but she's only fifteen."

"That isn't too young to wed," Alexander frowned.

Damien shook his head, "I'm not marrying a fifteen-year-old."

"Fine, then have a long engagement."

"Father--"

"My oldest son must wed." The king insisted. His eyes were fierce, despite his feeble body. He coughed weakly, laying back on the pillows.

"I will, Father," Damien told him. "But I'm not in a hurry."

***

One of the upsides to his father's sickness was that Tobias hadn't been hurt in a while. Julian didn't go down there often and Alexander was too weak to do anything. The guards still administered the crivain that suppressed Tobias' abilities, but only because those were the king's orders. Once Damien was king, he'd belay them, but until then he had to put up with it.

"I think I've finally figured it out," Damien grinned, the pieces of his plan beginning to fall together.

"Worked what out?" Destiny questioned. She was sitting in front of the vanity in Damien's bathroom, brushing her wet hair. She was wearing his robe, her collar hidden beneath the folds of fine fabric.

Damien looked into her reflection, making eye contact with her through the mirror. "How I'm going to set Tobias free."

She raised an eyebrow, "Oh?"

"Well, you're my slave. I can set you free directly," the prince explained. "But since Tobias belongs to the crown, it has to be done differently."

"Yes?"

"But not if I outlaw slavery entirely."

Destiny slammed the brush down and turned to him, her eyes wide with shock. "Can you really do that?"

"Once I'm king, I can do whatever I want."

"But… it can't be that simple!"

"No," he admitted. "It isn't."

"The entire justice system is built on it. You'll have to overhaul the entire thing!"

"I know."

They stared at each other for a long moment, each considering the possibilities.

"It's time for a change, Destiny. Slavery was instituted as a way to combat crime, but it has turned into something else entirely. It should never have become permanent." Damien ran a hand through his hair, "It's time for things to change."

"Tell me your plan."


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> PLEASE READ THE TAGS.

"It's time, my son," King Alexander whispered.

Damien knew this was the case. He had been summoned for this very purpose. As had the priest and Alexander's head advisor. Queen Eliana was at his bedside as well, clutching his pale hand in both of her own. There were two guards at the door, as well as the head of the royal guard. The head guard was holding the ceremonial crown on a satin pillow.

The priest turned to Alexander, "Your Highness, do you willingly pass the crown to your oldest son and rightful heir, Damien Fell?"

"I do," Alexander croaked.

The priest handed Damien a Bible. Damien placed one hand on the Bible and held up the other. The priest asked him to repeat the oath, which Damien had memorized long ago.

"I, Damien Garcia Fell, solemnly swear that I will support and defend the great country of Circos, that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of king: So help me God."

The priest took the Bible and set it aside, then removed the crown from its satin pillow. "Then by the power vested in me by our Almighty Father, I now name you, Damien Fell, King of Circos. Long live the king." He placed the crown on Damien's head.

Everyone in the room who was able bowed and repeated, "Long live the king!"

"Thank you," Damien said gently. "Please clear the room so that I may spend the remainder of this time with my family. And can someone send for Natalia and Julian? My father has little time."

"Yes, Your Highness," the advisor responded immediately. Damien, Eliana, and Alexander were left alone.

"I know you will make a good king," Alexander rasped. "You're strong, like I was."

"Thank you, Father."

Damien's younger siblings arrived not long after. They all sat at Alexander's bedside until he passed. As soon as he was gone, Damien got to his feet and left the room.

There was work to be done.

Damien's first act was to address the palace staff. He dismissed Alexander's advisor and many of the royal guard, including the head. He appointed people he knew and trusted in their places. He freed Destiny and appointed her as his head of staff. Then, he wrote an address to the people and ordered it to be decreed in all the major cities the following morning.

By then, he had been up all night and had yet to accomplish many of the things he still had to do. He had already made funeral arrangements for Alexander, which he would have to attend the following evening. But the palace slaves were the next big thing on his priority list.

"You need to sleep," Destiny chided gently, placing her hands on Damien's shoulders.

"I still have far too much to do," he objected. He and his new advisor, Jacob Langley, were seated in the conference room with stacks and stacks of paperwork around them. "The palace slaves will need to be freed and re-transitioned into society. I need to make sure Tobias begins to get the care he needs. And we haven't even begun to tackle the new judicial system."

"You've been up all night," Destiny pointed out. "Get some rest. I can move Tobias to more comfortable living arrangements, if you like."

Damien shook his head, "No, I want to take care of it myself."

Destiny sighed softly, "Fine. What about the servant's quarters on the royal floor? They're vacant now. He would be comfortable in there overnight."

"Good idea," Damien got to his feet, "I'll go retrieve him now. We can sort the rest out after I've slept. Jake, go home and sleep. I'll see you in a few hours."

"Yes, Your Highness," the advisor responded.

Damien made his way down to Tobias' cell, stopping only to order his guards to cease administering the crivain that suppressed his powers every 24 hours.

Tobias was asleep when Damien entered, curling into a ball on the far side of the room. His ankle was the only thing chained now, and Damien had made sure he had been given blankets and food. When the young king entered, Tobias stirred. His indigo gaze was groggy when it met Damien's.

Damien had exchanged the bulky ceremonial crown for something a little less flashy. Now, he only wore a simple gold circlet upon his brow. But despite its simplicity, Tobias knew immediately what it meant. He bowed low, murmuring, "Your Highness."

"Come on, Tobias," Damien took the slave's hand and pulled him to his feet. Then set to work unchaining his ankle. "I've found you alternate living arrangements."

Tobias followed Damien without question, silently trailing a step behind. The young king led him directly to the royal floor, pushing open the door to the servant's quarters on that floor. It was meant for only the highest ranking of servants, like the handmaidens to the queen. Compared to the plain servant's quarters downstairs, it was quite luxurious.

This wasn't lost on Tobias, either. He looked around with wide eyes, lips slightly parted.

"You can sleep here. I'll send someone to fetch you in the morning, okay?"

Tobias nodded, "Yes, Your Highness. Thank you."

"Of course," Damien headed for the door, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, my king."

The words were still foreign to Damien, but he liked the way they sounded on Tobias' lips. He left the room and headed to his own, eager for some well-earned sleep.


	15. Chapter 15

Tobias was still in awe of everything that had happened over the last twelve hours. He'd hardly slept, instead laying on the floor and staring up at the ceiling of the room he'd been placed in.

Prince Damien - no, _King_ Damien, now - had sent a servant with food and a set of clean clothing. The shirt he'd been given had been specially made, too, to suit his wings. It was a nice gift, although Tobias struggled to wrap his brain around the gesture. He only ate a little, nervousness and starvation warring within him.

He rose early, washed his face and hair in the wash basin to the best of his ability, dressed in his new clothing, and waited to be retrieved. He wasn't sure what the day held for him, although he was certain that whatever it was would be interesting.

A servant knocked on the door around seven, coming in to drop off breakfast and cart off the dirty dishes from the night before. He didn't mention the fact that Tobias hardly touched his food, nor did he stare at the slave's wings. Instead he pointedly avoided looking at them and promised to return in an hour to take him to King Damien.

Tobias poked at his breakfast, attempting to choke down a little with some success. It was bland enough that it didn't upset Tobias' shrunken stomach, so he tried his best to eat it.

By the time the servant returned to retrieve him, he was a nervous wreck. What did the king want with him? Why was he treating him so well? This had never happened before in all his years as a possession of the crown.

Tobias tried to compose himself, following along behind the servant. The people they passed in the hallway stopped what they were doing to gape at him, some out of fear and some out of awe. He kept his eyes on the floor.

"Here you are," the servant pushed open a large, ornate door, revealing a room with a big oak table in the center of it surrounded by chairs.

The room was tastefully decorated, with large windows and heavy drapes drawn back to let in the sunlight. The table in the center was covered in mountains of paperwork. There was a map, a collection of pens, and a pair of abandoned coffee mugs in between stacks of paper. The king was standing near the windows, arguing with a man seated by the table. Neither noticed Tobias at first.

"-- Not that simple, Your Highness. There are laws --"

"I know," the king's brown gaze was heated. There were bags under his eyes and his brows were drawn. "Laws to overturn and bureaucrats to convince, but it can be done!"

The man seated at the table noticed Tobias halfway through the king's sentence, his eyes widening and jaw dropping open. When the king noticed his expression, he turned to Tobias. 

Tobias swallowed the lump in his throat and bowed, "Your Highness."

Damien gave him a look that suggested he was sick of the special treatment already, "Rise, please. Come here."

Tobias did as he asked, approaching the king with his eyes downcast. This was the man who owned him now. And despite everything that had happened between them, that scared Tobias a little.

"Jake, this is Tobias. Tobias, this is Jake Langley, my advisor," the king introduced.

Mr. Langley was still staring at him, eyes passing over his face and the lines of his wings. "Hello."

Tobias gave him a small nod, discomfort spreading through him.

King Damien pulled a chair out, motioning to Tobias. "Sit, please."

Tobias sat down obediently, staring down at his hands. The conversation continued, although Tobias couldn't make heads or tails of it.

"Our judicial system has allowed this to continue for too long," King Damien said calmly. "I propose we institute a system of courts and prisons rather than gallows and slave houses."

"Won't crime increase after that, Your Highness? And who will pay for the prisons? Taxes will go up and the loss of slave trade will not benefit the economy."

The king placed a hand on Tobias' shoulder, "A person should not own another person."

Tobias stiffened, his eyes widening when he realized the severity of the subject they were discussing. Did Damien really believe he could end slave trade?

Jake sighed, rubbing his eyes with a hand. "We have a lot of people to convince, Your Highness."

"Then we must get started right away."

***

Tobias sat in on meetings for most of the day, staying by King Damien's side. He wasn't sure why he was there, but Damien wanted him there, so he had no objections.

Damien didn't stop until it was time to prepare for his father's funeral, not even spending time to eat lunch. It had been brought, but the king hadn't touched it.

"Come on, Tobias," the king headed for the door once the last meeting had ended. "I have to get dressed for my father's funeral."

The king was already clad in all black, as was customary for a man in mourning. And had Tobias not been aware that his sunken eyes were due to exhaustion, he would have accredited it to grieving. But, of course, Tobias knew better.

Tobias trailed a step behind the king as they left the conference room, headed back up to the royal floor.

"Your Highness?" Tobias prompted softly.

Damien turned his beautiful brown eyes on him then, "Yes?"

"Um… Why did you send for me?"

"Oh," the king blinked slowly, as though the question caught him off guard. "I enjoy your company. Is that alright?"

"Of-of course!" Tobias felt his cheeks heat in embarrassment. Did Damien really enjoy being around him?

"Good," he smiled. They arrived at his room a moment later, the king holding the door for the slave.

Tobias felt his face flush again when he realized they had come to the king's private living quarters. They were near the room Tobias had slept in before, only a few doors down.

Damien shut the door behind him, passing through the large sitting room straight into his bedroom. Tobias lingered in the sitting room, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable.

"I'll just be a minute," Damien called.

Tobias stretched his wings out nervously, standing awkwardly at the center of the sitting room. It was nice, as expected, with plush furniture and large windows. Crossing to the windows, the slave peered out at the world outside. He wasn't sure what the date was, but the trees were bare and small banks of snow blanketed the ground outside.

Damien came out a few moments later, clad in a ceremonial uniform. The fabrics were fine, woven with gold and navy thread. The tunic was heavy, a shimmery black fabric draped across his shoulders. His trousers matched, leading to fine leather boots polished until they shone. Instead of the simple circlet he usually wore, he had the ornamental jeweled crown atop his head.

Tobias saw his reflection in the window pane first. Turning, he suppressed the urge to kneel at this man's feet, a power he'd never noticed in Damien before now radiating off of him.

"Well, I'm off to the funeral," Damien told him tersely. "You're welcome to go back to your room or stay here if you like."

Tobias blinked slowly, "Stay… here?"

The king nodded, light glinting off his crown. His smile was intoxicating. "Whichever you prefer. If you go back to your room, I'll send for you once the funeral ends. If you stay here, you can make yourself comfortable."

The slave nodded dumbly, the words not quite registering.

"Alright, I'll see you after," Damien smiled again gently and left the room.

Tobias stared at the closed door with wide eyes. What was he supposed to do now?


End file.
